


Smoke and Lilacs

by KuriKoer



Category: Mob City
Genre: Colleagues to Lovers, First Time, Hair Gel, M/M, Office Sex, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 06:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5486768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriKoer/pseuds/KuriKoer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sid catches Ned off-guard</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke and Lilacs

The first time they kiss is eight months after Ben died, six months after Sid came back to work for Mickey and no one's asked him where he's been. Ned sure as hell doesn't want to know. 

He's done his best to keep everything together while all hell broke loose, did for Mickey the same work he did for Ben but with a little more result. Mickey was still at a stage where he'd *listen*. It got better after Sid's come back. Things were running smooth again, all the cogwheels oiled. Things were settled. Lansky and the others were satisfied. No more wave-making.

And then Sid has to go and do something stupid like back Ned up against a wall and tilt his head up and kiss him, hard, on the mouth. Ned opens up in shock and Sid's actually a very good kisser. Tastes of smoke and a sweet undertone of booze, knows what he's doing, lips insistent, tongue slipping into Ned's mouth and teasing him. Ned can swear he feels the smirk when Sid's tongue sweeps against his teeth, so he reaches down and grabs Sid's ass with both hands. The dumbest, riskiest thing he's done, possibly ever. Could end up with a bullet in his head if he's miscalculating, but Sid just moans into his mouth, posture softer, less aggressive. Ned licks Sid's lower lip and Sid pushes his thigh between Ned's legs, slips a hand under his jacket. Another hand grabs the back of his head. And the kiss stops.

"That lilac shit better have other uses too, mister fixer boy," Sid growls like he does when he's half-angry, half-pleased. He waves his hand, glistening with hair cream. Ned grins, panting.

"It doesn't," he says, twinkle in his eye, tongue swiping his own lips in invitation. "But I know a place where you can get that. Back at the office."

Mickey's office is a little bigger now, and despite Ned's best efforts, more garish than it used to be. It's also well-stocked. Ned's seen to that, in consideration of the girls. He's glad for that choice now.

He barely has the jar out of the drawer when Sid nudges him, a little more impatient than necessary, to bend over Mickey's big desk and Ned hopes to God Sid locked the door but he's pretty sure he did. Because one thing you can trust Sid with, it's to keep everything neat, take care of what messes might happen. Ned needs more people like that in his life, people who solve problems rather than people who cause them.

"I don't mind the smell of it," Sid says gruffly, nuzzling the back of Ned's neck while he fumbles with the jar and Ned's pants. "You get used to anything."

It's as close to a compliment Ned can remember getting, other than "you handled the press well enough", which was the first thing Sid's told him when he came back. It's definitely the first personal thing Sid's ever said to him that wasn't scathing. Good, good. That's progress.

"You get used to anything, but sometimes it's nice to shake things up a bit, huh, Sid? Try something new," Ned glances over his shoulder and gets a deep, throaty laugh, and a light slap to his ass he thinks he can live with. Sid's got the jar open and Ned's pants lowered, and Ned sort of expects things to go a lot faster now, but instead they slow down. Sid's mouthing his shoulder. Runs a hand long and slow along his flank, under his shirt, up his ribs. Hums, warm and vibrating, against Ned's feverish skin, and takes a moment to loosen his tie.

"This is something new," he comments, "but it's not really surprising."

Ned would argue, but he doesn't feel very argumentative right now. If Sid was thinking about it all along, that's news to Ned, who didn't see it coming even when Sid's body was flush against his, didn't see it until Sid was closing the distance between them. Not that he didn't entertain some dirty thoughts of his own, and some pretty solid suspicions, but Sid didn't look like Ned would be his type. Could be the barely masked contempt he'd had for him at the beginning, that sure as hell didn't propagate any hopes. Or the civil but cold professional relationship they've been having since the thing with Ben blew over. Or the way Sid's dark gaze always makes it clear that he still thinks Ned is a jumped-up, vain, all too clean-nosed lawyer boy who keeps his hands out of the dirt.

"You have pretty eyes," Sid says and it's another big surprise, one that sends an unexpected jolt down Ned's cock. "Shame I should miss lookin' at them. But there's no time for lovey-dovey face-to-face now," and is that a hint of regret in Sid's voice that Ned can detect?

He decides to press his luck. "Another time," he offers, and feels Sid nodding, chin bumping against his shoulder blade.

"Another time," Sid agrees, and finally Ned feels those strong, long fingers crooked against his hole, touching feather-light before pushing the grease inside.

"Oh yeah," he can't help the words coming out of his mouth, a little too loud, but he can feel how satisfied Sid is when the other man is mouthing the back of his neck again and pressing one finger into him. It twists inside and Ned is too loud again.

"Shh," Sid murmurs, low and quiet, and does the finger thing again that makes Ned bite his lip hard to stop from shouting out. A little more lube, and a little more of that teasing play, and then Sid's ready and positioning his cock, pushing slowly into Ned's ass.

Ned remembers, like a flashback, something Benny Siegel told him once upon a time. He said, Sid might not be the biggest guy in the room, but he's walking around with the biggest dick. Ned thought it was a euphemism. Turns out Ben meant it literally. Jesus Christ.

"You good there?" Sid checks in. Ned nods and closes his eyes, breathes deep and tries to relax. Sid keeps going, caressing Ned's thigh until he's bottomed out, all the way in and Ned feels his eyes rolling.

He starts a slow, unhurried pace, despite the fact the club outside is roiling with noise, jazz music and laughter and champagne glasses clinking. In here it's quiet, just Sid's slow, rolling moans, and Ned panting into his own wrist, trying to keep it down.

The door rattles. Ned freezes. It rattles again and Mickey yells, "Who's in there?"

"Busy here," Sid calls out. There's a second of silence and Ned wonders if Mickey will just back off, but no such luck. It's Mickey.

"You boning a girl in there?" Mickey calls, laughter in his voice. At least he let go of the door handle.

Sid gives a slow, lazy thrust, all the way into Ned. "Just in here with the lawyer," he calls, maddeningly even, level. Ned can't let him beat him at this.

"Going over some numbers, Mickey," he says, proud of how steady his voice sounds. For good measure, he tightens his muscles around Sid's cock and is gratified to hear the older man's breathing hitch. "Won't be long," he adds, just to be contrary.

"Not long at all," Sid mumbles, quiet, for Ned's ears only, and he starts fucking for real - not jackrabbitting, still giving slow, full thrusts, but with intent and rhythm now, rocking Ned on his feet.

Mickey apparently decides to give up on them, which is all the better, because Ned isn't sure he can keep his composure for much longer. Or at all. Behind him Sid is grunting quietly, and when Ned reaches for his own cock Sid nudges his hand away and takes his place. That's another thing he's apparently good at, bringing Ned off, manipulating him as smartly as he would any handgun. Ned claws helplessly at Mickey's desk before he comes, wet and messy on Sid's hand. Sid keeps fucking him, keeps nuzzling at his shoulder, and then Ned feels him running his hand through Ned's still perfectly coiffed hair. It takes him a moment to register which hand it was.

"You're kidding me," he's panting, a part of him finds it hilarious while another part is disgusted to his core. Sid's panting, laughing, then his voice catches when Ned clenches hard and spiteful. He's silent when he comes but for a long, stuttered exhale.

"No one's gonna notice," Sid says and he pulls out, slow and careful. Ned feels himself gushing with the slide and drag of Sid's cock, dripping come, and he reaches blindly for his hanky to stave off the flow before he messes up his suit pants.

"Not really the point," he says and starts to straighten up. He feels Sid stretching behind him and then the soft touch of Sid stealing a little kiss just under Ned's ear. It's a little tickling and it's fond and intimate. Ned turns around.

"It doesn't show," Sid says, smiling, and touches Ned's hair again, wiping what's left on his hand in the shiny, oily surface.

"You're a dirty man," Ned tells him, chuckling, and Sid only smiles. The kiss Ned initiates is not a surprise, but the way Sid melts into it, warm and pleased, still is.


End file.
